


You know the way that I hide (for you)

by heryellowcup



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Pining, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21870871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heryellowcup/pseuds/heryellowcup
Summary: "I assume you flew here on a bus ?"In another universe this is funny. In another universe where Kara didn't fuck up, didn't lie. In another universe Lena smiles as she asks this, and Kara smiles right back.In this one, however, in this universe, Kara doesn't feel like smiling. In this one snow is silently falling onto her already soaked clothes and wind is tousling her hair in an unruly manner and Lena's tired eyes scream at her to just leave.Or,Kara tries to make things right but they get snowed in, andthenmake things right.
Relationships: Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 11
Kudos: 242
Collections: Supergirl Femslash Secret Santa 2019





	You know the way that I hide (for you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amaltheaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaltheaz/gifts).



> I'm very sorry for this being so short and not really all that great, but I didn't actually sign up for this event (just had the awesome chance to jump in as a pinch hitter once someone else dropped out), and therefore didn't have a lot of time to write this.  
> I really, _really_ hope you'll like it nonetheless.  
> Merry Christmas!

"I assume you flew here on a bus ?" 

In another universe this is funny. In another universe where Kara didn't fuck up, didn't lie. In another universe Lena smiles as she asks this, and Kara smiles right back. 

In this one, however, in this universe, Kara doesn't feel like smiling. In this one snow is silently falling onto her already soaked clothes and wind is tousling her hair in an unruly manner and Lena's tired eyes scream at her to _just leave._

_Go back to the city, Kara. Go back to wherever you want to, but don't bother me in the one place I considered to be safe from people like you._

Kara wants to follow Lena's gaze back into the woods and do as she imagines green eyes tell her to. She wants to cry, and instead pushes through. "I walked here, actually," she tells Lena truthfully. "From where I parked the car. I didn't –." 

But Kara doesn't need to tell Lena that she walked through knee high snow because she’d been afraid of Lena's reaction if she used the powers that led to all of this. Powers and their concealment that led to tension and hate and this cabin somewhere in the woods. 

Lena doesn't say anything. Kara guesses she doesn't care how she got here, perhaps assumes _walking_ to be another lie. And she doesn't ask _why_ Kara is here either, though Kara provides an answer nonetheless. 

"You shouldn't be alone on Christmas." Another decision made for her. Kara hastens to add, "but I'll leave again if you want me to, of course." 

_How_ Kara knew to come here Lena doesn't ask either. Perhaps she knows. Perhaps she knows that Kara listens, and that she paid attention that one time Lena mentioned the place, tipsy and entirely too comfortable. Perhaps she remembers opening up to Kara, and perhaps it's why she opens the door further too, tells Kara to come in. 

"Are you sure?" Kara wants to know, but by then they're already in the living room, silent and decidedly too many steps apart. The space between them feels huge, unfamiliar. Kara wishes she knew what to say. But she's tired and spent and already knows what Lena is going to say next. 

"I laced the place with kryptonite."

Kara nods and it's quiet again. She knows. Lena knows. They both know that no words are ever going to make this right again. 

It's fair, too. Lena protecting herself in this way, in the only way possible. And even then it doesn't seem to be good enough, because Kara is still here, still in her cabin and on her couch and looking at Lena like she _gets it_ , because she does. Kara thinks that she'd throw herself out into the cold winter evening if she was Lena, but the latter tells her to stay the night, to rest, then disappears into another room. 

It's hard for Kara to think, and so she nods and falls asleep wondering if maybe silence can fix things, when words can't. 

* * *

There doesn't seem to be much kryptonite. Kara still feels the effects of it as she wakes again in the morning, but sleep has also made her feel well-rested. She soaks in the gentle sunlight falling through snow covered windows and feels quite at ease, stretching and listening to Lena’s footsteps she can just barely make out now that she’s almost human.

In some other universe this is just another morning. Kara guesses, in her current state tainted by sleep, that in this other universe Lena might join her on this wonderful couch and lean in close and wake her up with soft lips against her own. 

In _this_ universe, however, Lena joins Kara just as she's about to try, and fail, to open any of the windows. The view out there must be amazing, but Kara can only guess seeing as they don't move one bit. Superpowers or not, Kara should be able to open a window. 

But she isn’t, and neither is Lena. They're frozen shut, and from one of the upstairs windows both of them can see the snow piled up high, higher than either of them have ever seen. 

It's Christmas morning. Usually, on this day every year, Kara wakes up to a bunch of presents and a still sleeping Alex that she gets to drag out of bed and right under the Christmas tree. On this Christmas morning, it seems, she's woken up to a lot of snow. 

It takes both of them no more than a few seconds of shared eye contact to realize they're snowed in. 

* * *

In between cursing the snow, glaring at it and then each other, Kara feels oddly thankful. This isn't what either of them had hoped for, Lena especially, but watching the latter pace the room in sweatpants and a soft hoodie has Kara feeling all sorts of things. 

This version of Lena, minus the angry steps and empty eyes, reminds Kara of movie nights and cuddles on her couch. This version of Lena, _soft_ Lena, Kara misses especially. There's some small piece of solace Kara finds in the glasses perched atop Lena's nose that is quite embarrassing, and she's thankful also for Lena's hatred towards this entire situation because she might notice otherwise, how Kara keeps looking at her. With so much love still that, again, words couldn't do justice. 

When Lena disappears into the bathroom Kara tries to call Alex, fails because there is no service so far out in the woods, and smiles. With nothing else to do she approaches the backpack she brought, filled to the brim with Christmas decorations. 

Because she knows Lena, knew her just as well as she packed her bag at home and wondered how Lena was going to spend her Christmas. What came to mind was a definite lack of the Christmas spirit Kara has known to love humans for, and it comes to mind still with every step she takes on this wooden floor in between empty and bland walls. 

So Lena does everything to avoid Kara, while Kara herself does everything to make her stay worthwhile. Kara is no fool, though she also _is_ one, in a lot of ways. She knows Lena doesn't want her here, knows that fairy lights and mistletoes and blinking stars won't change the fact that she lied, but hopes that it'll make Lena happy at least. If just a little bit. 

* * *

It's hours later that there is so much as another word uttered in this cabin in the woods.

By now it is dark already, so Kara guesses it must be some time after five. She's not certain, has spent most of her day looking out of one of the windows on the upper floor, watching the snow fall silently. There's a lone lamp out there, illuminating white, white, white, and more white falling. Kara feels calm and motion sick all at once, almost jumps when Lena joins her on the spacious windowsill.

For someone who's spent all day expertly ignoring Kara, Lena seems fine sharing this moment with her. She isn't even watching the snow, is watching Kara instead. 

"I saw the decorations you put up," Lena begins and Kara is foolishly smiling already. "I don't hate it." 

_I don't hate it._

Those words, embarrassingly, make Kara feel giddy and warm. She thinks that in another universe they might as well mean _I don't hate **you**_ , and so she keeps on smiling silently. She doesn't know what to reply. This is Lena opening up, finally, this is Lena _talking to her_ and it's Kara's chance to do so as well, but they've already established that words can deceive and Kara is afraid. Afraid that her own might continue to make things worse. 

Kara expects Lena to take silence as an offense, expects her to get up again and continue to play this awful game of hide and seek that only one is playing, in a space small enough to rob either of them of their ability to breathe. 

Instead Lena keeps watching Kara. The latter can't help but imagine Lena listing all of the things she hates about her, silently, as she studies her treacherous face. But even then, even now, even after all Kara's done, she finds it hard to believe that there's so much as one bad thought ghosting around in someone's head who looks this _soft_ in the white reflection of the snow and the warm light of the candles behind them. 

Lena has all of the power to get rid of kryptonite and tell Kara to leave, to get them both out of here. Lena has all of the power to ensure that they'll never see each other again, and yet they're here, and Lena doesn't seem powerful at all. 

They're here, and Kara thinks Lena might not actually hate her as much as she imagined she did, because in this moment Lena breaks the silence once more and it is laughably simple. Kara thinks of the worst and Lena asks if she's in the mood for mulled wine. 

"Mulled wine?" Kara asks, another smile creeping up on her lips, timidly.

Lena raises an eyebrow in response. "You know what that is, right?" 

Kara's unsure as to whether this is another way for Lena to taunt her, another well-deserved stab, or if she's genuinely curious. Perhaps even teasing. She watches as Lena starts to copy her own smile, just barely so, and decides that it's the latter. 

"I _do_ know what that is," Kara grins, remembers the countless of times she went to Christmas markets and wasn't allowed to have any of it. The kids version, sure, although the real thing wouldn't have had any effect on her either.

Here in this cabin, however, here with Lena, she's a little more human, and she can't wait to finally rebel against Alex's overprotective nature in the most childish way. 

"I never had it." 

" _Never_?" Lena asks as though it's the biggest offense, as though Christmas consists of nothing but finding the most acceptable way to get shitfaced. Kara thinks that perhaps this Christmas should be just like that, thinks that in this moment she'd love to be tipsy and not worry about the way Lena makes her feel now that she's becoming herself again, now that she's joking and smiling and waiting for Kara to follow her down into the kitchen. 

So Kara follows and doesn't complain about how Christmas should be about more than this, shouldn't be about the act of _forgetting_. Because for once she, selfishly, wants to forget. Wants Lena to forget all about the past few months and live in the moment, on this couch, and look at her like this is what Christmas is supposed to be like. Just the two of them. 

* * *

Kara decides she likes mulled wine. It's sweet and warm and it feels like Lena. Kara is resting her head on the back of the couch, the Christmas decoration blurry and soft edged and making it seem like everything's okay. Like this is how it's supposed to be. 

Like it's okay that Kara's face is warm and her thoughts fuzzy and that Lena, sitting opposite of her, looks just like she feels. Just as flustered and cozy as Kara felt this morning, stretching and soaking in sunlight and feeling utterly at peace. 

Kara doesn't know what they're talking about, because their feet are touching, just ever so slightly. And it's woolen clad toes brushing against each other that make her realize how much she truly missed this, missed Lena. And Lena isn't pulling back, not even as she follows Kara's gaze to where their bodies meet. 

And perhaps she's drunk and foolish and completely out of her mind, but a part of Kara longs to trail her foot up Lena's leg and watch her reaction closely, to test her limits. A part of Kara no longer wants to sit on this part of the couch. A part of her _wants_ Lena. 

Perhaps she's _definitely_ drunk. 

Kara is infinitely thankful when Lena begins to talk then, even though her words come almost as unexpected as her own thoughts. "I miss Alex." 

It's soft and quiet and Lena looks so _vulnerable_. 

"Huh?" Perhaps if she'd had less than five cups of mulled wine Kara'd understand what Lena is trying to get at. 

"I miss Alex," Lena mumbles again, sighing, then laughs somewhat dismissively. Kara hates that. She just wants Lena to keep speaking, without any of these sad looks and falling corners of lips. "I thought I'd miss you most of all, after– you know, after everything. And I do, I do miss you. It's just–" 

Kara smiles encouragingly. She wants to take Lena's hand and tell her that it's alright, but even red-cheeked and happy and foolish like this, Kara doesn't dare to. 

"It's just that I miss Alex as well. I miss her glaring at me because she thinks I'll corrupt you somehow, and I miss her glaring at _you_ because she realized that someone who looks at you–", Lena takes a deep breath, looks at Kara, the smallest hint of a smile on her lips, "that someone who looks at you the way _I do_ could never hurt you in any way." 

"Lena–" 

"And I miss game nights. I miss Kelly and Nia and all of your friends and I miss _having_ those friends. I miss having a family." 

Kara shakes her head and takes Lena's hand. Fuck being careful and fuck holding back. "Lena, they're your family as well. They still are. They care about you." 

Lena shakes her head and laughs again as she leans back against the couch, staring at the ceiling and all of the lights Kara put up there. 

And then she speaks again, after yet another moment of silence in which they're just _here_. 

"I'm trying to hate you, you know. You can't just come here and turn my cabin into winter wonderland and _be yourself_ and expect me to succeed." 

Kara grins, joins Lena in looking at the ceiling, then closes her eyes. She can't help herself as she thinks that perhaps her idea of forgiveness has been wrong all along. 

Perhaps forgiveness isn't a big deal like she thought it would be, one life-changing moment that causes Lena to like her again. Perhaps it's just this.

Perhaps forgiveness is getting no Christmas presents and being wasted and Lena not pulling back when their feet touch on the couch.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed reading this, thanks :)


End file.
